


wanna be your best time girl

by ithacas



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithacas/pseuds/ithacas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry fancies liam. they're all on the football team. au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wanna be your best time girl

**Author's Note:**

> everyone is a cis!girl. you could call this a bend it like beckham au maybe? except no unnecessary jonathan rhys meyers and i skip straight to the important bits.

"Ohhhhh, _someone's_ hoping to get a shag tonight. Those pants are a bit posh, Li."

It's six am and Harry has no time for Louis' shrill voice this early in the morning, especially when it's still dark out and she's being a smartarse. Still, it's not a comment Harry's about to ignore; any mention of Liam and underwear is enough to rouse her from even the deepest sleep. She blinks one eye open and winces at the fluorescent light in the locker rooms before she gets a faceful of rank-smelling socks shoved under her nose and she goes blind. The pants conversation continues above her while she suffocates. She catches the words Victoria’s Secret and very nearly chokes.

She thrashes on the bench she’s laying on until Louis’ socks fall on the floor and grunts when Louis comes into focus on top of her. “Fuck off,” she mutters, her voice all croaky because she’s still half asleep. She slaps a hand in front of her and Louis catches her wrist ineffectually, smiling with a full set of teeth that isn’t creepy at all.

“You were about to do it again. I was preserving our dear captain’s virtue.”

“Do what,” Harry asks stubbornly, even though she knows exactly what. It’s not like she’s ever managed to get the hang of subtlety; it’s not like Louis doesn’t catalogue every minute detail of every little thing. She pulls her arm back weakly and Louis lets go, still grinning wolfishly as Harry sits up and zips her hoodie right under her nose.

“Stare,” Louis says in a way that reminds Harry of mum scolding her for sneaking a biscuit before dinner. “Not polite, innit?”

“I don’t _stare,”_ Harry protests. It’s a useless lie if she’s ever told one. She turns her back to Louis and catches sight of most of the team trudging out of the locker rooms, wiping sleep from their eyes and looking like general death. Liam - unfortunately - is nowhere to be seen and probably much more clothed than before.

“You do that really intense thing like you want to eye-fuck everyone,” Louis points out, crossing her own eyes as if that makes sense. “Especially when it comes to Payne’s sideboob.”

“Don’t -” Harry swivels around, eyes keen on the shower doors. Knowing Liam, she’s probably catching a shower before her first class. She widens her eyes at Louis, who’s cackling like she’s just heard the best fucking joke in the universe. “Don’t talk about Liam’s _sideboob_. You make it sound weird.”

“It _is_ weird, mate. She was wearing a tank top at the last game and you were fucking dribbling on yourself.”

Harry generally thinks she has some semblance of self control but that tank top didn’t really cover much of anything. She loses herself a little in the memory of Liam yelling at the ref and the strap of her top falling off her shoulder and then Louis snaps her fingers in between her eyes. Harry startles back and immediately looks anywhere other than at her best friend.

“You just sodding did it again, oh my _god_. Lesbians are hornier than straight girls, I bet that’s a thing.”

Harry shakes her head, even though there’s a smile tugging at her lips now. She grabs Louis’ hand gently and intertwines their fingers, pulling them both towards the doors. “That’s not a thing.”

“It’s totally a thing,” Louis argues, letting herself be pulled with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Remember how much you kept wanking to Flack when we first joined the team?”

“Louis, Jesus -”

“I kept finding you with your hand down your pants -”

“Louis, shut up.”

“- and I mean, best mates and all, but it’s kinda insulting when you have this hot piece of arse sleeping next to you every other night and you go changing your knickers about Liam sodding  P-”

A gag’s as effective as anything, Harry supposes, and it’s a good thing she puts an end to Louis’ ramblings when she does. The door behind them swings open again and - speak of the devil and the devil shall appear - Liam sodding Payne rushes through, pressed uniform trousers and crisp white shirt and damp hair and every inch Harry’s wet dream. It’s embarrassing how quickly every muscle in the lower half of her body lock up instantly. She squeezes her hand over Louis’ mouth and Louis winces and punches her in the boob.

“Shit, thank God you guys are still here, I thought I was late again,” Liam pants and doesn’t bat an eyelid at the embrace Louis and Harry have contorted themselves into. She twists her tie over her head and beads of water flick over to Harry. Harry bites her lip not to groan. Louis elbows her way free.

“Nope, Payno, we got caught up in a sexy conversation. Wanna join?” Louis crosses her arms, as if that wasn’t enough of a challenge. Harry wants to throttle her; she also wants to lick the shade of pink that’s blooming along Liam’s neck. “It was all about your sideboob,” Louis continues, because Louis doesn’t know how to quit.

“Shut up, Lou,” Harry mutters, ignoring her own blush that she can feel across her collarbones. “She’s being a dick, Liam, don’t pay attention.”

Liam laughs, her cheeks still pink, and pats Harry’s forearm like it’s nothing, steering them ahead. Harry can see Louis pretend to swoon from the corner of her eyes. “Find my sideboob interesting, do we, Lou?”

“Of course we do,” Louis leers, flicking her tongue slowly at Harry’s direction. “Some more than others.” Liam chuckles again, shaking her wet ponytail; Harry makes a slicing gesture against her throat at Louis.

Louis screams because she's a nutter and darts ahead, leaving Harry to contemplate how to get away with murder. She carefully avoids thinking about the warm hand Liam still has wrapped around her arm.

* * *

They’ve got practice again after school and Harry’s really not in the mood. They had the shit school fish and chips for lunch and she panicked over her art history project and for some reason her iPod is insisting on playing nothing but the entire discography of Chris Brown. It’s Zayn’s fault probably, because Zayn was definitely looking shifty when Harry left her in the library, and now Harry’s just pissed off at life in general.

She shrugs out of her school blazer as she treks along the pitch. At least the weather’s decided to stop being a complete bitch; the sun’s out and she can think about wearing her kit without wanting to die or cut off her limbs.

She’s half naked by the time she trudges into the locker rooms, shirt unbuttoned and the bra she borrowed from Louis on full display. None of the team look bothered, they’ve seen her tits more than any of her girlfriends, and Niall even cops a feel instead of greeting her. She kicks her ugly black plimsolls away and balances on one foot and then the other to get her horrible trousers off.

“No one wants to see your arse, Harry. Is that my bra.” Louis tugs at the strap and lets go to make it sting.

“Ow.” Harry pouts and slithers down on the floor because she can. Ashton props her foot on Harry's bare midriff to tie up her laces. She’d complain if she felt up to it.

“Such a baby,” Louis says fondly, kneeling down to run a hand through Harry’s hair. She’s already in full gear, too tight top that’s actually a glorified sports bra, too tight leggings that make her bum look glorious and headband that belongs to Harry keeping her fringe from her face. For some reason, she hasn’t bothered to put on make-up on the left side of her face. Harry decides not to ask.

“Get up, ya lump,” Niall mutters from somewhere Harry can’t see. Harry flicks a V in the general direction of everyone.

“Think she needs a little motivation,” Louis says slyly. Harry knows her voice well enough to know some kind of nefarious plot is underway.

“What d’you do,” she murmurs, already feeling better as she gets petted.

“Why you got to immediately assume I’m up to something?”

Harry rolls her eyes. Louis shrugs. “Haven’t actually, this time. But I _do_ know something you don’t know.”

“Don’t you always,” Harry replies blankly.

“Good point. But this time you definitely care.” Ashton climbs over Harry to get to the pitch and Harry grunts at the sudden shift of weight. She rubs her tummy and swats at her ankle. Louis leans over her, elbows bracketing Harry’s head and her knees pressing Harry’s waist. “It’s about Li.”

Harry’s stupor vanishes. She lifts her head and glances around the locker room; only Jade’s left, trying to get her bleached blue hair into a bun, and she’s not paying any attention to Harry and Louis. She turns back to Louis. “What?”

Louis grins, always pleased to have someone’s undivided attention. “Andy came over during lunch, while we were at KFC -”

“You went to KFC _without_ me?” Harry says, outraged.

“I know how much you love the lunch lady’s mushy peas,” Louis cackles. “Anyway, back to Andy.”

Harry’s face scrunches at the name. It’s not that she doesn’t like Andy, it’s just that she hasn’t spent that much time thinking about him in the context of Liam’s life. Which she should, she supposes, because Andy's Liam boyfriend and that’s a pretty big part of the equation to ignore. Whatever, she’s perfectly happy pretending that Liam enjoys boy parts as much as Harry does. Which is not at all.

“Stop making that face,” Louis orders. “You always do that when anyone mentions Andy.”

“I do _not_ -”

“Harry, will you please shut up so I can give you some news that will stop you from acting like the giant bitch you’ve been all day.” Harry clamps her mouth shut and winds her arms around Louis’ middle to placate her. She squeezes her bum just for an extra push. Louis seems to appreciate it.

“Good. So.” Louis takes a deep breath and grins even wider. “They only _totally_ had a fight and broke up in front of me!”

If only Harry’s reflexes were as good when she was training as they are right now. She gets up in a flash, hoisting Louis half in her arms. Louis looks quite breathless.

“I can suddenly completely understand how you seduced Flack.”

Harry props them both up carefully. “They broke up?”

Louis blinks. “Yeah, mate. It was brutal. I quite fancied Liam all angry like that meself.” Harry’s jaw clenches. “Joking. Easy, tiger.”

“Where’s Liam?” Harry asks, looking left and right like she’s expecting her to appear out of thin air.

“She was doing runs around the stands before. Getting all her aggression out, like. Very healthy. Oi! Wait for me!”

Harry doesn’t, if only because she knows Louis will catch up through sheer power of nosiness. She pushes through the doors and jogs towards the pitch.

“Some clothes would a good idea,” Louis shouts out pointedly, chucking a raglan and a pair of boxer shorts at Harry. Harry nods her thanks and pulls everything on in a daze; she keeps looking up, trying to make out a figure running on the stands above them. "Don’t wanna come off too strong.”

“What,” Harry says distractedly. There’s a figure in black lycra in row five, ponytail high on her head, middle bare. Harry swallows.

Louis laughs. “You are so gone. Anyway, stop fantasising about Liam’s vag, Flackster is yelling us over.”

“I was not -”

“Harry. You were. Let’s go.”

Training goes by at a snail's pace and Harry does shit at it, because she doesn’t even bother to follow the moves Caroline is instructing them to run through. She’s too caught up with looking at the frown etched on Liam’s face and the way she runs through everything mechanically, like her head’s in this even less than Harry’s is. Which is saying something, she reckons, because Caroline actually grabs her by the ear and orders her to run another lap. It would be hot if Caroline hadn’t made it clear whatever happened between them was a one time thing and Harry’s chest didn’t keep ballooning at the thought of Liam being single.

Actually, it’s still pretty hot regardless and she doesn’t resist from winking at her coach as she keeps at a steady pace. The run does her some good anyway; the blood thumbing under her skin is beating normally when she finishes off a quarter of an hour later and the sun starts setting in the distance.

The locker rooms are quiet, with only a few towels thrown haphazardly on the floor and a single shower running. Harry goes straight to her bag and fishes out her phone to message Lou. There’s a few texts waiting for her and she thumbs through them until she gets to _Tommo_.

_bribing everyone w chips U R ALL ALONE_

_PLS USE EVERY SURFACE AND TELL ME EVERYTHIGN_

_also be nice and comforting and offer lots of orgasms_

_ilu x_

_COmE TO MINE LATERZ U SLAG Xx_

She doesn’t entirely follow Louis’ stream of thought - but then, who does - but she doesn’t think much of it. Her back is killing her and a shower sounds like heaven right about now. She calls her mum to let her know she’ll be late for dinner and eases out of her sweaty training shorts, one hand propped against the wall to keep herself up.

“Yeah, I know how to use the microwave, blimey, mum -”

_“I know, darling, just make sure to set it to two min-”_

“Haz?”

Harry nearly drops the phone and her bad reflexes are back because her first instinct isn’t to cover her very naked chest, it’s to turn and give Liam a full frontal. Liam barely blinks. Harry sort of feels insulted.

“Okay, yeah, mum, see you in a bit. Night, bye, love you.” She hangs up before mum can explain how to correctly open a microwave door and smiles sheepishly at Liam. She’s wearing a holey pair of knickers and one grubby Nike sock. So attractive.

Liam smiles back, a little thinner than Harry would like but that can’t be helped. She’s all wet again - _why_ \- and she’s got one of the awful, scratchy school towels tied around her, her hair still in a ponytail and conspicuously dry. She still looks amazing. Andy must be off his rocker.

“Thought everyone was gone,” Liam says quietly, holding the towel up more securely. Harry can see her shift her feet like she’s uncomfortable. It makes the insatiable horniness in Harry abate a little and she just wants to wrap her arms around Liam in a completely exclusively friendly way. Mostly.

It also makes her want to punch Andy in the dick but that’s besides the point.

“You want me to go?” she offers, leaning down to pick up her discarded shorts. Liam’s shaking her head frantically by the time she stands up straight.

“Nah, no, I’d rather not - be alone, if that’s alright? Don’t fancy walking home.”

“Andy was gonna pick you up?” Harry asks and prides herself at not sounding as completely disgusted as she feels. Liam is looking at the floor with undue interest.

“Yeah,” she toes the tiles in front of her, then looks up, determined frown on her face. “Whatever, fuck him, I’m better off.”

Harry raises her eyebrows. It’s not unheard of for Liam to swear but Harry’s always loved it, the way she wraps her mouth around every syllable like it’s supposed to mean something more. She’s kind of liking this new attitude too.

“You’re allowed to be sad about it, Liam,” she says carefully. She’s always careful with Liam, not always for Liam’s own good because Harry’s a selfish bastard.

“I know,” Liam says matter-of-factly, biting her plump bottom lip. Harry has to take a deep breath to ground herself. “I meant it though. I’m fine, I’m just kind of pissed off. Is that bad?” Liam actually looks worried that it might be.

 _No, it’s brilliant, amazing, let me kiss you for it._ “Of course not, Liam. He was a giant wanker, anyway.”

Liam lets out a startled laugh and her whole face turns into crinkled lines that make Harry’s heart swell to twice its size. Louis was right; Harry is so fucking gone.

“Should have let me know you thought that earlier,” she says when she’s calmed down and she’s wiping the tears in the corner of her eyes. Harry shrugs.

“Didn’t think it would be something you’d like to hear.”

Liam sobers up and her eyebrows knit together. “I always listen to you, Hazza. Of course I’d like to hear it.”

Harry feels lightheaded. “Well, then. Better late than never.”

Liam takes a step closer and rolls her eyes. “I guess.”

Harry’s still very almost naked. She lifts her arms to cover herself but it would just make everything uncomfortable now. She swings them uselessly at her sides and Liam watches, raising one eyebrow. "Are _you_ alright, Harry?

"Wha- me? Yeah! Always, y'know me." Harry coughs in a hollow fist and tries to position her crooked arm so it at least covers one stupidly hard nipple. "Just, um. Cold."

"The human space heater's cold? What's the world coming to?" Liam smiles again and Harry wants to smile back, honestly she does, but she can see what Liam is about to do from a mile away. And that's the bloody problem - she isn't a mile away, and Liam's looking like she's about to make the distance even smaller.

Harry mentally braces herself before Liam wraps both arms around her skinny waist. It's a mantra of every prayer she learnt in Sunday school that goes through her head but her boobs are being pressed down by Liam's slightly more protected boobs and, c'mon. She did mention her self control skills were sorely lacking. It's a good thing she's a bloody brilliant friend or else she'd just appreciate this for whatever it is.

She takes a step back, hands gripping Liam's forearms firmly to prevent further cuddling. Liam frowns at her and she gets why; there's no one that loves a cuddle more than Harry Styles. Except maybe Niall on a bender.

"Li," Harry starts seriously, or as close as she can make it. She needs to come clean before she starts rutting against Liam's thigh by accident or something.

"Yeah?"

"Y'know I fancy you, yeah?" Best come out with it directly. Liam blinks and Harry's heart rate speeds up.

"Um."

Harry rolls her eyes. "C'mon, Li, it's alright, I know Lou hasn't kept her mouth shut."

Liam presses her lips together, looking like she's fighting with herself not to be a snitch. Then she sighs. "Fine, yeah. She - she might have let something slip."

Harry snorts. She doubts that. "Doubt that."

Liam almost grins. "Her exact words were 'Styles has the fucking hots for you and would quite like to offer tongue action in the general genital area.' Or something." It's amazing how much of a beetroot Liam's face manages to turn into.

Harry has no qualms on that front. She shrugs. "Or something. Anyway. Just wanted that out there. Seeing as we're fairly nude and in a locker room. Very DIY porn."

"Okay," Liam nods, playing with the corner of her towel and - very determinedly, it looks like - staring into Harry's eyes and nowhere else. It doesn't take much to ruffle Liam's feathers but Harry's vain and it's a nice thought, that Liam is suddenly all too aware of the skin Harry's got on display. "Not putting the moves on me, then?"

"Not unless explicitly asked," Harry laughs, turning to glance around for a towel. Louis' looks fairly clean, so she heads to her locker and swings it off the hook. She's trying to be nonchalant about this, because Harry's never shied away from fancying anyone and the only difference here is that Liam is absolutely not just anyone.

It's silent behind her and she doesn't want to turn and watch, in case Liam looks like she's deliberating. Harry knows straight girls, and she knows how fucked up they get in the head when it comes to things like this.

"Harry?"

"Mhm," she says, rummaging around Louis' locker for the coconut shampoo she's stolen from Harry.

Instead of answering, Liam puts a hand on Harry's back and it's all Harry can do not to jump at the thumb she can feel pressing on the cut of her shoulder blade. She tenses up and waits.

Liam's thumb moves, slow strokes up and down the ridge of bone, and Harry's muscles relax involuntarily. "What if -" Harry can't see her, but she imagines Liam's biting her lip again. She shrugs again, slowly, not to throw Liam's hand off, but to make her keep talking. "What if I did. Ask."

Harry looks up, her eyes level with the words of an old Top 40 song scratched on the rusty metal door. She licks her lips, wincing where they've cracked from the cold, then turns to face Liam. Liam's hand slides off her skin slowly and Harry resists shivering when her nails catch.

"Liam."

"I'm not sure what I'm asking," Liam rushes to say and her eyes flick up and down. Harry feels warm at the thought of Liam actually giving her a once over. She’s not quite sure what makes Liam move in the end; the trigger could be anything and, god knows, Harry's had enough close calls that the only thing she feels is gratitude when Liam steps forward.

Harry's surprise lasts all of about three seconds and she has to smile through the clumsy way Liam's mouth presses against her lips. Her thumbs dig into Harry's hip bones, more like she's tethering herself to something than keeping Harry put. Harry doesn't resist, pliant to Liam's touch, and sneaks her hands around Liam's damp neck. When she feels braver, she slides her hands down Liam's back, lowering down until Liam hums with what Harry will take as approval. She squeezes once, like she’s wanted to for so bloody long. Liam’s bum feels just as good as she thought it would and she sends silent thanks to their stupidly consistent training sessions.

Liam makes a startled noise at the grope and Harry thanks her lucky stars for always snogging with her eyes open because she wouldn't want to miss Liam's current expression for the world. She pulls back until her nose grazes against Liam's; there's really only a towel between them so it doesn't matter.

"Are you still fine," she asks, her voice sounding like it's closed up a bit. She nudges Liam's nose. "Not freaking out because you just kissed a girl? And you liked it?" Dear God, Harry hopes she liked it.

Liam doesn't move and her hands are still drawing patterns along the slight v above the elastic of Harry's knickers. "A bit of freaking out," she admits and Harry's stomach swoops unpleasantly. "More that it's you, not you being a girl."

Harry frowns, trying to tone down the panic. "I'm not sure what that means, Liam."

Liam frowns at her, sucking on her lower lip. It's wet with spit and red with Harry's kiss.

"You complete _tosser,"_ Liam whines - honest to god _whines_ and Harry's knees almost buckle. "It means I can barely remember my ex boyfriend's _name_ , Harry." She leans over again with barely a moment's thought and Harry's mouth is already open, tugging Liam's lip between hers. Liam's fingers dig into the dimples in Harry's back and even though Harry finds herself kind of weirdly into the way the rough towel feels against her sensitive nipples, her knuckles dig into the material and pull. It makes a soft sound as it pools at their feet and Harry wastes no time in squeezing until she's sure Liam will have pink, finger shaped marks on her arse next morning.

Liam pants out again wetly. Harry takes her chance to tilt her mouth and attack Liam's neck. She tastes of water and soap and she still smells of the grass they'd been running on earlier and it's messing with Harry's head. "I want to fuck you until you forget every single person that's touched you before me," she whispers in the hollow of Liam's throat. It's dramatic and stupid and the kind of thing Louis would slap her for but fuck if right now Harry doesn't mean every word.

Liam's heartbeat jumps erratically under Harry's tongue. Harry sucks with more intent and scrapes her teeth against Liam's skin. When it's warm and tender in her mouth, she bites down until she breaks skin. Liam gasps. "You want that?" Harry mutters, doing her best pornstar voice. She really deserves a smack for being a complete idiot. The thought actually sends a jolt between her thighs; for a second, she lets herself contemplate the idea of Liam being into that.

"Y- yes," Liam stutters out harshly, bringing Harry crashing back to sweet, sweet reality. She presses her mouth back to Liam's lips and turns them around until it's Liam with her back against the wall. When she leans back, Liam wobbles like her legs have turned into jelly; Harry totally relates. She threads her fingers through one of Liam's hands and tugs so Liam can sink down on the bench. Harry watches her wince at the sudden cold on her bum and she feels a sudden wave of affection, twisting and taking root somewhere in her chest. She keeps on watching her from her vantage point and Liam tilts her head up, giving her a soft, dopey smile. "Aren't you gonna join me?" She sounds breathless.

Harry kneels on the damp linoleum, her elbows cushioned on Liam's thighs. One of her hands is still entwined with Liam's; she lets the other wander across the planes of Liam's body. Her thumb dips under one Liam's breasts, feeling the weight of it. Giving into impulse, she leans over and kisses the space between Liam's boobs. She smells mouthwatering and she feels soft and Harry honestly hasn't a clue how she's been resisting for so blooming long. She deserves an massive, gold-plated award. And a fruit basket.

Liam's ribcage is fluttering with shallow, needy puffs of air and Harry wants to swallow every single one. She wants _so much_. Harry wants to unravel her. She wants to hear Liam come undone. She tips her face up for another kiss; it isn't light or chaste this time; Harry uses her tongue in a way she hopes Liam will take as a preview. When she leans away Liam looks broken and glassy eyed. Some sick instinct in Harry rejoices. She runs the pad of her thumbs against Liam's pulse soothingly and keeps kissing down the length of her, neck, chest, smooth, toned belly. It's overwhelming, getting to kiss a part of Liam she's been worshipping in her head what feels like forever now, a part that's been _you can look, but you can't touch_ almost as long. She noses and kisses and blows air into her belly button until Liam laughs and then her mouth goes lower and Liam stops laughing and connects her knee flat against Harry's nose.

"Ow!"

"Fuck, Harry, Jesus!" Liam's scrambling to kneel on the floor next to where Harry's sprawled, hand cradling her nose. It doesn't feel wet, thank fuck - she's broken it enough times thanks to Niall's shitty aim - just sore and throbbing. Liam - sweet, lovely, gloriously naked Liam - looks like she's just witnessed a horrifying car crash. On the plus side, this incident has made Liam basically straddle Harry's hips which she's really fucking into.

She groans a little louder than the injury calls for and Liam leans in closer, just as Harry had been hoping. "You should probably, like. Make it up to me, y'know."

Liam's face turns from concerned to exasperated. She pinches Harry's nipple in a move she's no doubt picked up from Louis and promptly sits down heavily in Harry's lap, rocking a little back and forth. "I thought I'd hurt you, you twat!"

"Something on your mind, Liam?" she questions, biting the inside of her cheek to sound less breathless.

Liam bangs her teeth together. "Get me off," she says impatiently. It reminds her of how Liam's her captain and how Liam hates, hates, hates to lose. She grins and clamps her hands down hard over Liam's thighs, squeezing until the muscle underneath jumps. "Dunno if you deserve to get off, to be honest. Remember how you maimed me?"

 _"Harry,"_ Liam moans, rotating her hips in Harry's lap and pressing her weight over Harry's chest to align their mouths. Liam's tongue drags slowly in Harry's mouth and Harry's quite content to do this for a while. Except Liam is clearly not one to hold off on orgasms and Harry very nearly yelps when she feels a hand sneak between them and Liam cupping the wet patch in her knickers.

"Knew it," Liam says wickedly and, fuck, Harry would have seduced Liam in the showers long before this if she knew how eager she was for it.

"Know - what you're doing - there, Li?" Harry struggles to say and clamps her thighs together for the least bit more friction. Liam gets the hint and moves her thumb up and down in slow strokes. Harry's going to die.

"I can figure it out. I think." Liam sounds curious, like it's some experiment in A Level chemistry she's determined to ace. Her thumb pulls back the elastic and swipes the sensitive folds of skin. Harry's hips thrust weakly upwards.

"You're so wet," Liam marvels and Harry just nods frantically, not quite up to coherency. Liam's hand keeps on exploring, like she's seen a map but keeps getting distracted by the real thing. She gets the groundwork right, though; Harry keens when she feels a thumb pressing hard on her clit, the heat in her belly building up. One of Liam's long fingers dips lower, wet with her slick, until it sinks in, barely past the knuckle and then stops.

Harry opens one eye with effort. Liam's hovering above her, teeth marks on her lower lip and furrowed brows meeting in the middle of her forehead. It would be adorable if Liam's weren't currently not making her come.

"Li," she breathes out, head spinning. She's not sure she's up to the task of giving Liam a girl-on-girl sex crash course. "Need a hand?" It's amazing how she can still laugh at her own dumb jokes at a time like this. Liam's frown breaks and a smile startles out of her; Harry's heart begins to beat at double time just at the sight of it.

She finds Liam's free hand blind and threads it through her fingers, squeezing once. "You're fine. You're doing brilliant. You're doing so good, Li." She presses their hands against her chest and nudges Liam's face with her nose. Liam looks like she's searching for something, her eyes swiveling to each of Harry's. She must find what she's looking for anyway  because she eases back, still seated on top of Harry, their hands still connected. Then her other, rather more preoccupied fingers start moving and Harry's eyes roll to the back of her head.

There's not much of a rhythm at first, Liam sliding in and out with careful movements. Harry's thrusts help; she's always liked guiding along and she wants to teach Liam, she wants her to know she's doing well. She allows herself to be louder, her breathing echoing against the linoleum and if she had any ounce of shame in her, she'd be worried someone might hear.

As it is, shame goes flying out the window when Liam rubs down hard and the heat that's been gathering in Harry's belly seems to burst. She pants out quickly, her breath catching in her throat, and with a harsh 'fuck!', her lower half tenses, wound tight. She comes hard and fast and she keeps her eyes screwed shut while her pulse starts slowing down. When she finds the strength to open them, Liam is an inch away, looking at her in wonder. She can feel her face go pink under her scrutiny but it's nice really, knowing she has a captive audience.

"Good job - well done - I'd say, Li," she murmurs, head still post-orgasm hazy. She brushes her thumb over Liam's knuckles weakly. She grunts, a low sound from her chest when Liam pulls her fingers out of her cunt and then has to bury her face in the crook of her elbow when Liam raises the wet pads of her fingers to her mouth. She flicks her tongue over them with a slow kitten lick.

"Jesus Christ, Liam," she whines when there's a popping sound close to her ears and Liam presses her soft mouth to the side of Harry's face.

"Was it good then?"

The earnestness is what does it, the way Liam thinks but isn't sure she did well. Harry pulls her arm away and presses both palms on the sides of Liam's face. "I think you killed me, Liam."

Liam turns pink.

Harry sighs happily and reaches up to suck on Liam's lower lip with absolutely no finesse at all. She sighs again and nudges Liam to sit up. "Mum's not gonna let me in the house unless I've showered."

Liam stands and pulls Harry up by the forearm. They knock into each other clumsily and giggle self-consciously. It could get awkward; one wrong move and they could spend the rest of term avoiding each other's eye. Harry won't let that happen though. Not when Liam's looking at her like that.

She's smiling, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Harry takes her time looking at her, now that she can without worrying about her face giving her away. Her hair is curling just behind her ears, and her face is soft, one of those faces Mum would call lovely. She shakes her head; it’s a bit weird that she’s thinking of her mum when she's just gotten off with Liam. Though, to be fair, she is quite lovely, orgasms aside.

She winds an arm around Liam's waist and leans over to whisper in her ear. "Come on." She starts nudging them both towards the shower stall. Liam goes along with it.

"I've already showered, like, three times today." She doesn't sound too put out by it. Harry laughs, still tucked into the hollow of Liam's neck, and slides the lock of the shower behind her. She bats her eyelashes to the best of her ability and watches Liam breathe in heavily.

She twists the rusty tap until water starts pouring out. She steps into the puddle and shrieks, undignified, because it's _freezing_. Liam looks amused. "You know it's gonna take about three years to heat up, right?"

Harry shudders. "That's why I brought you in here, Li," she says casually, reaching out to roll one of Liam's nipples between her fingers; Liam's eyes flutter shut. "Gotta kill the time somehow, yeah?" And then she kneels, again, because she doesn't have Super League aspirations like Louis and if she fucks up her knees going down on Liam, then it's a decent price to pay.

"What are you - Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry grabs one of Liam's hands and guides it to her head. "You can pull if you like. I like it." She gives her her best butter couldn't melt in her mouth smile and nudges Liam's thighs apart. They're trembling slightly under Harry's hand so she smooths a palm over them, thumb working slow circles over the skin. The water's beginning to steam around them.

She presses a kiss over the neatly trimmed hair and tilts her head, tongue out and flat to lick a stripe over Liam. Liam makes a small noise above her and grabs the fistful of Harry's hair more firmly, not quite pulling. Harry hums appreciatively, picking up her rhythm and rubbing her flat tongue until she's overwhelmed by Liam and how she smells and how she tastes. Her pulse rushes in her ears and starts building up between her own legs but she doesn't pay attention; it's all Liam now, Liam's hips rocking against Harry's face, Liam banging her head against the wall, mouth parted.

It's a sight to behold, Liam falling apart like this, and Harry wants it more than anything. She dips her head lower, replacing her tongue with an eager thumb, pressing down on the small pink nub. Liam keens quietly and then gasps when Harry pushes into her cunt as deep as she can go. She can tell by the way Liam's quivering, that she's close, so she squeezes Liam's thigh, enough so that she can hold her up. Her tongue keeps working and her thumb rubs incessantly and then Liam cries out, loud and her knees buckle.

Harry rests her forehead on Liam's leg and only looks up when Liam pulls softly at one of her curls. "Up, come up," Liam says weakly and Harry goes happily. Liam has no qualms about kissing her and they kiss until they both begin to taste like each other.

"I think it's warm enough now," Liam mutters, still mostly leaning on Harry. From outside he bathroom stall, _I Got It From My Momma_ starts playing shrilly. Harry's forehead bangs on the wall over Liam's shoulder.

"My mum is going to _kill_ me."

* * *

Liam has the keys to the lockers, responsible captain and eager to please pupil as she is, so Harry hangs around by the door, watching her lock up. She looks artfully disheveled; her ponytail is drooping low on her neck, with tufts sticking up from her forehead; her uniform is buttoned up unevenly, the team emblazoned hoodie tied around her waist; her collar doesn't quite cover the blotchy skin that's peeking from just below her neck. She looks like the best thing Harry has ever seen. She had her head between Liam's legs and was making her pant out her name in reverence fifteen minutes ago and now she can't wait to get her hands back on the stretch of skin she can see.

She licks her lips and still tastes salt when Liam pulls back, bag hitched high on her shoulder. "Ready?" She offers her hand and Liam doesn't hesitate before taking it. Something restless in Harry settles and she's glad, she's so, so glad that she doesn't have to worry about this part. Liam leans in closer than she would have before and she keeps knocking her shoulder against Harry's accidentally on purpose, but then, those are the differences Harry doesn't mind so much.

It's dark out when they head towards the bus station. Harry checks her watch on her free hand and curses in her head; Mum is really, actually going to murder her this time. Because there's late, and then there's four hours after the school lights turned off late and Harry is definitely on the wrong side of that. At least the bus is coming in two minutes. Which only gives her a ten minute window to come up with a plausible story and only ten more minutes with Liam. It's weird how that's already become an entirely inconceivable prospect.

"Hey," she tugs on Liam's hand and smiles when Liam lets herself be knocked into Harry's side. "Come stay over."

"You're only asking so you have a buffer between you and your mum," Liam says shrewdly and Harry kicks at her heels.

"Okay, true. But that's not the only reason." She hails down the bus and they get on without letting go of each other. Harry slides into the first pair of seats, patting the one nearest to the aisle. Liam sits without a word, smile playing at her lips. She has very nice lips. Harry favours Liam's arm instead of the window to rest her head on. "But I also live in the loft. So. You know. Could make use of that." She hopes there’s no way Liam can hear her pulse quickening. She likes to pretend this is as easy as breathing to her but sometimes (this time) she feels vulnerable asking.

She waits for the blush she's come to expect but it's not there. Liam's too distracted by something on her phone. Harry pouts; she doesn't like being ignored. Especially not when she's offering a full night of entertainment. "Liam," she drags it out and punches Liam for good measure. Liam barely flinches. She just squeezes the fingers she's got ahold of and passes her phone along.

"I'll come over," she says with a grin. "But I don't think we're going to be entertaining ourselves much tonight."

"Wha- why?" She knows she sounds like a five year old. She looks down at the phone and rolls her eyes at the seamless column of texts in front of her. The last one reads, _tell that FUCK TO GET HER NOSE OUT AOF WHtever orifice she's in AND CALL ME BACK IM AT HERS._ "Oh, fucking hell."

"You've got a Louis to entertain," Liam says fondly. Harry shakes her head stubbornly.

"I'm locking her out," she says, trying to sound firm and slipping Liam's phone into her bag. She turns back to Liam who's leaning dangerously close and sighs, content. Louis is not even getting an inch into her bedroom tonight.

 


End file.
